New Allies
by ilexx
Summary: Oneshot. Set around Into the Labyrinth.


I don't own any of this.

Set around S2's „Into the Labyrinth" and a bit inspired by musings and comments on Natta's „Believe in Happy Ever After?".

**New Allies**

„Not if my life depended on it!"

The statement was clear, crisp and violent. More of an outburst, really

„I thought that there is nothing a Nietzschean wouldn't do if his life depended on it," the avatar of the _Andromeda Ascendant_ commented calmly, turning towards the large man seated at the far end of the conference table in the _Andromeda_'s briefing room.

„Your life could depend on it, Mr. Anasazi." In the chair next to him at the head of the table, Captain Dylan Hunt sighed wearily, his voice barely more emotional than that of his ship's persona.

„Tyr, we really need them. When the Worldship comes, they will be our first line of defence. It would be foolish to not take advantage of the fact that they are willing to join the Commonwealth, just because you can't get past your pride!" Rev Bem, the Magog turned Fatalfa and the crew's voice of reason, kept his tone well balanced, any yet: the small word ‚foolish' seemed to be lingering somewhere, suppressed in the last second before the statement was uttered.

Shaking his mane of dreadlocks and eyeing everyone of his crew-mates assembled in the briefing room slowly, but with a rather vicious gleam in his dark gaze, the last of the Kodiak couldn't prevent from snorting in a dismissive way as his eyes finally came to rest on the captain's impassive traits.

„You have no idea what it means, do you?" he then threw out towards him. He stood up in an abrupt move that sent his chair flying backwards through the large room until it came to a halt in front of the _Andromeda_'s XO, who casually stopped the sliding by slightly raising her foot to prevent one of the legs from impacting with he tibia. Leaning against the wall, her arms crossed on her chest, Beka Valentine couldn't prevent a small smile from twisting one corner of her mouth. That her report might cause some puzzlement... She had expected that much. That the charade she proposed was not to everyone's liking was also no surprise. But the Nietzschean's reaction to all of it was more than just slightly comical.

-

They had been more than startled when word had reached them about the Sarmath Pride wishing to start talks about joining the Commonwealth, the captain most of all: he had never heard of a Nietzschean pride called like that. They turned out to be a remote, distant branch of the Sabras. It seemed that the latter's nasty habit of turning women into skilled assassins, that they developed during the big war, had bred them over the years a quite numerous elite corps of amazons, who were no longer willing to stick to the rules of Nietzschean social life and rebelled at one point. It now was over 2 centuries ago that more than 5000 of them had defected, some of them taking members – male members – of their families along with them. They found a habitable planet, far away from all Sabra hunting grounds – and any other Nietzscheans. They had refused contact with almost everybody, keeping to themselves. And the Sabras learned their lesson and from then on sterilized their female warriors in time.

When word had reached the _Andromeda_ that the Sarmath Pride was willing to enter negotiations, no-one onboard knew what to make of it. Dylan had never heard of them, to most of the others they were a mere legend – and Tyr Anasazi, the only one who could have provided more substantial information on them, was again roaming the galaxies on one of his „extracurricular activities" – as the captain used to call them. What little they knew didn't sound exactly like a society in tune with Commonwealth civil rights standards, but with the Worldship coming Dylan had deemed that they could not afford to not look into an offer for a mutual defence-pact. He sent the _Maru_ out to Qualat Ester, the Sarmathian home planet, with Harper and Trance under Beka's command.

It turned out that, in spite of their isolation, the Sarmath Pride was well aware of the Worldship threat – and of the fact that they were among the first ones to be in the line of fire. It turned out furthermore that they did not keep that much to themselves to not have heard of a new Commonwealth being restored with the help of the most impressive warship in the Known Worlds under the command of two captains, one of them a woman. They saw it as a sign of progress – and, impressed with their weaponry, their military skills, their amazing number of fighters, Beka saw no reason to set things strait. Yes, she was the captain of the _Andromeda Ascendant_, as they could see Harper obeyed her every wish, Trance was also eager to be at her service – and the other captain, well, she didn't want to hurt his feelings too much, therefore he was kept well under the illusion of actually sharing her position with her. The Sarmathians were thrilled, wanted to reflect about it a little more, but didn't think that it would take them long and promised to get back to Beka as soon as possible – with a favorable answer, of that they were all certain.

And now here they were: the Sarmath pride was willing to join at least their defence pact, they even wanted to send an ambassador to attend the conference scheduled in a week. Before that, however, they wanted to send a delegation to see for themselves what life onboard the _Andromeda Ascendant_ was really like under the command of Captain Valentine.

-

„Let's all calm down a bit, shall we?" Dylan asked with a smile, although no-one but Tyr seemed overly excited. „Beka, Harper, Trance, what exactly did you tell the Sarmathians? And how much do you kno about their way of life?"

Trance shrugged, looking helpless.

„We didn't really look into their way of life, Dylan," she admitted. „We didn't have much time, it was mainly about a military agreement, we all were concentrating on gathering information on that."

„It's okay, Trance. It's not all that important. We'll just do what we have to during their visit with us and get done with it," the High Guard smiled, deliberately ignoring the low growl coming from his weapons' control officer, who had in the meantime retrieved his chair.

„I do suggest, my captain, that we find out first exactly what they expect from us..." the huge man cut in icily.

„Oh. come on now, Tyr. It's not as if they're having bacon made of their males everyday for breakfast," Harper offered, chuckling. He then turned to Dylan: „They were treating me nicely, boss. Maybe a bit condescending, but then again, they're Nietzschean. And there were a lot of men performing all sorts of tasks. And looking quite good, really –and not at all unhappy," he concluded with a broad grin.

The Nietzschean fixed him with an almost outraged glare.

„You know, boy, this kind of idle talk is something I have come to expect from Dylan. And so far I have already my hands full in trying to keep him alive, so he might be able to go on yet another day spreading his message about how good can be found in all individuals, who are out there to kill him. However, I would have thought that your vast previous experience with my kind prepared you somewhat better for survival than it seems to be the case with our little Lord Fauntleroy here..."

„He is not **that** little..." Rommie indignantly threw in, as always more than willing to do battle for her captain. Tyr ignored her completely, still focusing on Harper.

„Any particular details you might want to share, Romdoll?" Harper, seated next to the warships's avatar, inserted in a low voice, receiving a short slap against the back of his skull from his proudest creation, while Beka threw them both a funny look, one of her eyebrows arched in a half-amused, half slightly annoyed manner.

"Mr. Harper – what do we have to **do **to make them sign that treaty?" Dylan cut the debate short, ignoring the interlude. "As far as I understood, you have made them believe that you are the one actually calling the shots here, Beka..."

"True enough..." Harper muttered under his breath, but fell again silent upon noticing the warning glare all others threw him. Without further taking him into account, Dylan continued asking: "So: how do we go about this?"

A slight smile on her lips, Beka shrugged dismissively: "They already know that Harper is our engineer – and they were impressed with some of the things he already showed them. I sold Trance off as my second-in-command. And I suspect that they will quickly catch up on Rommie's complex role and the _Andromeda_'s nature. Which leaves you boys..." Her phrase ended in mid-sentence.

"What did you tell them?"

She kept grinning lightly.

"I told them that I'm having you nominally sharing command with me..."

"How nominally?"

"Very." A knowing, amused grin was threatening to surface on Dylan Hunt's face, but a glance towards the Kodiak enabled him to keep up a serious expression.

„And what exactly, pray, were you thinking when you decided to pursue this peculiar course of action, Captain Valentine?"

„Oh, my guess would be, Tyr, that she thought more or less along the same lines you followed with Elsbeth," Dylan offered quietly, in the mildest tone of all.

"What about me?" Tyr's voice sounded almost like some still distant, yet already very menacing thunder.

Unimpressed, Beka beamed her smile towards him: "I also told them that I had Nietzschean serving under me."

"Under you? That's... That's..." Tyr Anasazi was at a loss for words.

"Exactly where under you?" Harper inquired faking polite interest.

"Harper!" Trance admonished him, shoving her elbow forcefully somewhere between his ribs. Disregarding the exchange, Dylan just nodded to Beka.

"So how do we go about this?" he repeated his question.

"Quite easy, I would say. They will be coming onboard two days earlier than the others and will – but for one of them – be gone by the time the conference starts. We simply pretend that I..." Beka hesitated slightly, "that I didn't embellish things; for two days one of you will serve as my secretary, taking notes and nodding, while the other one will serve as my... bodyguard – my shadow, if you so prefer... I saw that all important Sarmathians have one."

"Your body slave?" Tyr exploded. "Don't even think about it! Especially not once the conference starts. There will be plenty of other Nietzschean representants..."

"Oh, can it, Tyr. I'll just keep a very low profile during the conference, you stay as far out of their way as possible and that's that," Beka concluded in a bored, haughty tone, that irritated the Nietzschean even more.

"I won't do it, Captain Valentine!"

"Maybe there is a way out of this impasse," Rev Bem inserted quietly.

"Like what, Rev?" Dylan asked.

"Well, why don't you and Tyr just switch roles?"

"I do beg your pardon?" The Nietzschean sounded puzzled – and not at all appeased.

"I was thinking: would it agree more with you to be the one taking notes, Mr. Anasazi?" the monk asked politely.

"I... I... Well, I... suppose I could..."

"Fine, that would be settled then, Captain, with your permission...?" the Magog turned towards Dylan. No longer able to suppress his grin, the High Guard shrugged in a disarmingly helpless manner, his laughing eyes searching for his XO's gaze.

"Whether I'm 'nominally' sharing command taking notes or serving wine, as long as it gets us an alliance with some of the best scouts and pilots in three galaxies, I don't really care..." he agreed, his voice shaky with laughter.

"Oh really, Captain?" Anasazi inquired bitingly. "So whatever happened to those lovely ideals: all men created equal, equal rights for all, freedom for everybody and so on and so forth?"

"From what Mr. Harper has to tell, the men on Qualat Ester are not exactly slaves. Although their situation might call for some improvement. We will get to it, Tyr," Dylan said, turning serious. "But for that we have to first stay alive. I thought you of all people would understand that."

"I do. I just..."

"You're scared," Harper interrupted him dryly.

"I am... concerned..." the Kodiak admitted, craning his head towards Beka Valentine and shooting the captain of the _Eureka Maru_ a worried look.

"But, Tyr, I can assure you, I will be the most gentle... boss you ever had," the blonde told him softly, her voice almost a purr.

"See?" Blue eyes opened wide, Dylan nodded reassuringly towards his troubled officer. But then a small cloud seemed to pass across his face. He cocked his head to one side and eyed his XO sharply: "You will play nice now, won't you?"

"Dylan, do you doubt me?" Beka asked him, faking hurt.

"N-noo..." he answered slowly.

"Great, I knew we would find a strategy acceptable for all!" Beka exclaimed happily. "That would be all then for now. Dismissed everyone!" she then added with a twinkle towards Dylan, lightly patting him on the shoulder while passing him by on her way towards the door.

One by one all crew-members followed her, finally leaving only the three men alone: Dylan looking thoughtful and not quite as much at ease as before, Tyr still sulking and brooding and Harper slowly chewing on his lower lip, more than just slightly amused by the sight in front of him. As the silence stretched on, he finally stood up and moved towards the door. As he came by his captain and the somber Nietzschean, he lightly placed his hands on both men's shoulders.

„Gentlemen, relax, lay back and let her do what she's always been best at," he told them in a reassuring tone.

„And that would be what, boy?" Anasazi thundered.

Mustering him for just a fraction of a second, Harper chuckled lightly. With an insolent grin towards the _Andromeda_'s captain and one last pat on both their shoulders, he simply turned and left.

Wide, incredulous, uncomprehending brown eyes narrowed slowly, scrutinising Dylan.

„Does that make sense to you? What exactly is Beka so very good at? Will she be flying us someplace?"

The other man shook his head.

„Then what?" Tyr inquired further, the strain on his patience more than evident.

Digging his tongue in his cheek and offering a lopsided smile, Dylan shrugged again: „Ordering us around?"

-

Althina Khan, out of Theodora by Rostam was frowning. Something was not right. In spite of the amazing hospitality the four delegates of the Sarmath Pride had been enjoying for the past 24 hours onboard the _Andromeda Ascendant_, something felt off. Of course, in the presence of a Magog turned Fatalfa everything seemed awkward, but that feeling left aside, there were still other oddities to be observed that somehow did not make sense. Not really. Together with her colleague, with whom she shared one secretary and one personal servant (they had kept their entourage rather minimalistic, so they would not impose too much on their host), they had been showed the ship, had been entertained with an exquisite dinner, music, conversation, and yet... No, Althina could not put her finger down to whatever gave her the uneasy feeling. But it kept nagging her in the back of her head, while she observed Valeria Krtic, out of Boudicca by Kyril quietly discussing the last terms of the treaty that she planned to sign tomorrow with the woman seated across the table.

Next to them their both secretaries – Galen Kant, out of Rachel by Narcis and Tyr Anansazi, out of Victoria by... someone (Althina could not quite remember) – were dilligently taking notes on their conversation. And then it hit her: all crew of the _Andromeda Ascendant_ had not only expected to have the Sarmathian male companions introduced to them, but had – in spite of their own males performing only subaltern duties – been just as civil to their men as they had been to them, going even so far as to remembering their names. She furtively observed Valentine's truly magnificent Nietzschean: for all his splendour, he seemed to have a bit of trouble to perform his task with the necessary swiftness. Not as if he wasn't able to do so, more like there was a certain reluctancy that kept him from doing his best. His head did not seem bowed down with quite as much ease as Galen's. Althina couldn't tell however if this troubled the captain of the _Andromeda_. As far as she could see, the very detached human was focused on her talks with Valeria, hardly noticing her Nietzschean sidekick. And there was something else: unlike the gracious, slender, beautiful but nothing less than intimidating men on Qualat Ester, two out of the three men onboard the New Commonwealth's flag-ship were... quite impressive, really. Truth be told, even the insignificant small kludge looked as if, when needed, he could bite just as well as he could obviously bark.

This certainly seemed like a matter to be investigated further. She doubted, however, that trying to beat around the bush with Valentine or her Kodiak showpiece would help her further on this one. There were, of course, the captain's quite amazing purple XO and the little, yet apparently very skilled mechanic (they called him engineer) – but they were both appearing to be rather... slippery. The efficient, cold, professional avatar of the warship and the Magog priest – now there were two crew-members Althina had no wish to get better acquainted with. Nor did she think that she would succeed in gaining from them the information she was searching for: how much of this elaborate routine Rebbekah Valentine and her crew displayed was just a charade to ensure their signing on – only to later be able to slowly infiltrate the Sarmathian culture, changing their way of life back to the old ways of badly disguised male supremacy. There was no way Althina was going to fall for that. Which left her with just one more source to interrogate: the tall, a bit clumsy, but very obliging man, who followed Valentine everywhere like a quiet, considerate shadow, anticipating almost every wish of hers and serving all with a somewhat unaccustomed grace. He was nominally co-captain of the warship, a reminiscence of the old Commonwealth, they said. Had there not been his title, she might not have thought about it. Had he not been a kludge, Althina might have even envied Valentine for him. Had there not been this frank, always slightly smiling and anything but deferent expression in his eyes, that he seemed unable to fully suppress, she even might have bought the act.

-

„So, tell me, **Captain**," the Sarmathian guest, nearly as tall as himself and with shoulders almost as broad as his, ironically stressed the title, while at the same time leaning slightly against his arm in a manner that might have been seductive, had there not been fully erect bone-blades he could feel through his uniform pressing against his rib-cage. As it was, however, and with the memory of Elsbeth Mossadim lingering near the surface of his sub-conscious mind, Dylan Hunt found his walk through Hydroponics with Althina Khan not quite proper material for romantic dreams.

„Yes?" he murmured in a cautious tone, trying to withdraw himself in a polite way. She laughed at his discomfort, a feral, low sound much like a hyaena's chuckling, her broad face with prominent cheekbones getting even broader.

„Tell me about your life with Valentine..."

„What would you like to know?"

„What duties do you exactly perform around her? Are you..."

„I am her personal servant," the man stated firmly. „I'm sure that my duties are quite similar to those your own servant performs."

„My personal servant is also my mate," Althina told him abruptly, delighted to see her statement making him blush slightly. Looking down at his feet, he hesitated an instant, but then turned towards her:

„You must understand: with our current problems, Captain Valentine is a much too busy person to even feel the need for a mate right now. As much as I regret it..." he then added with a small sigh, pursing his lips into a cute little pout. It hit her by surprise. She scrutinized his eyes, searching for irony, but he kept looking at her with the most candid expression. Thoughtful, Althina cocked her head to a side.

„Tell me about the things you have to do, then..." she demanded once more.

„Oh, nothing unusual: I wake her in the morning with my most joyous laughter. She isn't really a very matinal person, you know," Dylan explained to her, leaning conspiratorily a bit in her direction. „I offer her some coffee, take out a fresh uniform and leave her discreetly to her morning rituals."

Another check into his face showed nothing but sincere friendliness. Still, Althina had her doubts about the touching morning scene described; somehow she could not quite picture the man in front of her casually walking into a bedroom, coffee-pot in hand and a „Wake up, honey! Carreer's waiting!" on his lips.

„Do you also prepare her meals?" the Nietzschean asked ironically.

He laughed good-humouredly, shaking his head at that.

„She's not much into breakfast. But I do take care for her to have a small snack to take to Command. For her lunch-break, you know," he shrugged, again dead serious.

Althina stared at him, not quite open-mothed but with a definite slack in her jaw. Slowly she felt anger starting to rise somewhere deep inside. He was making fun of her, of that she was sure. Dylan Hunt seemed not to notice any of these emotions, continuing to explain:

„It's fairly easy to take care of her while she is onboard. It's the away-missions that make life more tricky. Especially when she won't let me come along, you know." The cute little pout was firmly back in place.

„Why don't you insist?" his interrogator shot at him. He sighed.

„I try. But there isn't much I can really do, once she gets this determined tone of hers. You know, the ‚I've got this really important conference tonight; I'll be taking one of the new slipfighters – they just look so impressive. It'd be too crowded in it, if you came along. Might be getting late, so don't wait up for me. Got to go. Don't forget the flowers!' kind of speech..." Dylan complained, a little sad.

„Yes, I can imagine how hard this must be for you. I'm sure you fight with her, whenever this happens," the Nietzschean tried to bait him.

He gasped:

„Fight? With Beka? While she has important business to take care of? I wouldn't dream of it!"

„Really? So what do you do?"

„I just flash her my warmest smile. I wouldn't want her to start her day in a bad mood or get worried about how things are at home. And then I simply go about... **my** business;" Dylan lightly stressed. „Take care of the flowers!" His gaze proudly wandered around Hydroponics.

„Polish the windows..." she deadpanned.

„From the outside," he nodded, his voice not shaking one bit. „And then I'll just see to it that everything is always ready, waiting for her to enjoy, whenever time allows it: I keep her quarters clean and tidy – which isn't always easy," he added with a sigh. „I keep her kitchen well supplied, change the sheets, do the laundry. And then, when she is away, I just wait for her to get back and miss her dreadfully. It's a bit boring – and lonely sometimes, you know." Dylan Hunt stopped short of a miserable little sob.

„Send her messages to come home sooner," Althina suggested, her eyes growing larger. His expression was so genuine, that she felt compassion joining her anger about his attempt to fool her. And something else, as well. Something she couldn't quite make out and that was not really directed at him.

Dylan shook his head.

„She doesn't like it to be disturbed when away on Commonwealth-business," he replied melancholically.

„You need help!" the Nietzschean told him in a harsh voice.

„I do talk to Rommie," the man acquiesced. „She suggests a hobby. But I'm just too clumsy for aquarells, I'm afraid. And then there is Tyr!" he said in a low, unhappy little voice.

Althina Khan felt herself melt a little.

„What about him?" she asked.

„What **about** him? Have you seen him? Have you seen those muscles? How can I compete with **that**?" he exclaimed.

The Nietzschean lightly placed a hand on his arm.

„You don't trust her with him?"

„**He** gets to go along," Dylan sulked angrily. „**He** can attend the meetings."

„Surely Captain Valentine knows what she has in you," Althina tried to comfort him. _What am I doing here?_ she asked herself puzzled. _Drago's Bones, I really start buying into his act. And I envy her..._ it then crossed her mind. Dylan shrugged again.

„Maybe. But his looks... Beka's great, you know, but on these matters she is just like every other guy..." He grinned, slightly embarrassed. „I mean: girl..."

The Sarmathian smiled.

„Every great woman needs a devoted man to keep her in line. I'm sure she knows that. Her mission, her accomplishments, her busy schedule, her rank, her training surely made her a good judge of character."

„I wonder. This is all much too high for me. Our main task – according to Commonwealth orders – is right now to find new allies," Dylan confided in her. „We are not only the flag-ship of the fleet, but also head of the New Commonwealth's Communication Front Consulting Mutimanagement – and Beka's not only our captain, but their Main Chief Controlling Executive, as well. And me – I don't even know what that means!" he exclaimed, his hands thrown up in helpless gesture.

„Well,..." Althina Khan, herself an assistant to Valeria, who was occupying a position similar to Beka's in the Sarmathian highly bureaucratic system, started to explain, finally letting herself be taken over by his obvious distress – and endearing inoffensiveness. But she didn't get to do it. Captain Valentine and Valeria Krtic, followed by their secretaries and Rommie casually strolled in into Hydroponics.

„... and I think that a walk through the gardens will help you relax a bit before dinner," she heard Beka offering with a charming smile, that died out once she saw Althina with Dylan. „Dylan, I see you have nothing to do?" the blonde woman inquired in a severe tone.

„I asked him to show me Hydroponics, Captain," Althina heard herself – much to her own surprise and that of the others – coming to his rescue.

„Oh, okay. I trust he entertained you properly? Good," Rebbekah Valentine said crisply, without waiting for an answer, but with a new warm smile adorning her lips. „Well, then Valeria, Althina – I'll see you in two hours for dinner on Obs Deck. Tyr," she then added, turning towards him and cupping his bearded chin with one of her hands, gently stroking his cheek, „try get some rest until then, dear," she purred in an affectionate tone. „Ladies..." And with a curt last nod to the Sarmathians, she hurried back to the doors. „Dylan," she threw over her shoulder, without even looking back at him, „when you're ready here, do come to my quarters. My feet seem quite ready to be massaged."

„Yes, Ma'am."

-

In a matter of minutes Althina and Dylan were again standing alone in Hydroponics, Valeria and her secretary wandering off to the portion of the vast deck harbouring the pond, while Rommie and Tyr excused themselves quickly.

„I see what you mean," Althina told the human.

He contended himself to just look at her.

„It must be her way of taking revenge for ten thousand years of patriarchat, you know," she then tried a small attempt to comfort him.

A grin broke on his lips.

„Don't worry too much. We have a legal contract, Beka and me. And I am quite firm on separation laws: if things heat up with Tyr... I get to keep the large quarters." And with that and a small bow, Dylan withdrew – presumably towards the said large quarters, leaving Althina Khan, out of Theodora by Rostam, rather speechless.

-

They all had signed the defence-pact, they had fought off a new attack of the Abyss, they had signed up new members to the Commonwealth – including the united Sabra-Jaguar and the Sarmath Prides – and they were again alone and on their way back to Möbius.

„Come in!" Dylan answered his chiming door from behind the small bar set in a corner of his living room. A broadly grinning Beka appeared at the entrance to his quarters.

„May I?"

„Of course," he said, grinning back. „Want something to drink?"

„What do you have?"

„Venceremos-cognac," Dylan replied with his eyebrows arched up ironically.

„Hmmm," Beka moaned with pleasure. „Yes, please. Charlemagne in a generous mood?"

„A present... from Elsbeth." The pilot chuckled. At least he had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, Beka noticed. Rommie had taken care to fill her in on the interesting information that had transpired during Bolivar's visit with them. Joining Dylan on the couch and accepting the glass he held out for her, she graciously decided to let him off the hook.

„I saw the recordings from Hydroponics. You did a pretty good job with Althina," she complimented him, slowly starting to take off her boots. He smiled, but there was a cautious, somewhat puzzled look settling in his eyes as he saw Beka luxuriously leaning back into her corner, her feet comfortably taking up residence in his lap.

„Beka...?" he inquired, sounding a bit uncertain.

„My feet," she said, as if this explained it all. Her toes were wiggling lightly. „You never showed up, you know. Can't have you disobeying an explicit order. Go on: my feet are getting ready to be massaged..." she grinned.

„Aye!" he obediently answered, his hands taking hold of her left foot and slowly starting to rub it firmly. His grin was matching hers.

„You know, you weren't all that bad yourself with Valeria. With all Sarmathians actually," Dylan finally picked up their conversation.

„Mhmm..." She sounded utterly desinterested in his praise, not opening her eyes, that she had closed savouring the warmth of her drink and Dylan's ministrations.

„And with Charlemagne," he added a bit louder. She did not withdraw her feet, but her eyes opened in an instant and she sat herself up straighter, a suprised, inquiring look on her face. He smiled lightly. „I had his quarters monitored by _Andromeda_, of course," he explained, taking his hands off her feet.

„Of course," Beka said dryly. But then she lightly pushed his arm: „Go on. You're very good at this. Almost as good as me with Charlemagne..." she spurted out laughing.

„Any time," Dylan laughed back at her, his hands picking up the slow, strong strokes on her feet. „Well, maybe not **anytime**..." he then cut down on his offer. „But anytime you bring in a new ally. Deal?"

„Deal," she answered. And then, settling back down and closing her eyes again: „You'll be a busy boy. Bringing in new allies... Ha! Piece of cake, really, for a Main Chief Controlling Executive with any self-esteem at all!"


End file.
